


misguided // yelyah

by featherlullaby



Category: Avril Lavigne (Musician), Paramore
Genre: Again, Coming Out, Depression, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Lowercase, Mild Smut, Tayley, hayley's gay, hayvril, i'm not a very strong swimmer, jeremy leaves again so that's nothing new, okay probably not, so is avril, the toaster burns hayley's toast, this is written in a weird way, this will be very confusing to people who don't know music, what the fuck toaster, you're not helping her situation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 07:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12625953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherlullaby/pseuds/featherlullaby
Summary: she was looking at her with brand new eyes.





	1. // one

she thought only in tones of music.

an unintentionally played low e string abruptly cut off, and she found that her toast was burnt.

she looked at it from her place at the kitchen table for a while, not wanting to eat it but not wanting to throw it out either.

"hey, hayles," he said as he walked into the kitchen. "what's for breakfast, ashes?"

she had come to know him as starcaster. he was a kind man; the only she could confidently label as someone she admired.

she giggled weakly at his antics. "yep."

starcaster took a large bite out of the unwanted slice of toast right as his blonder counterpart walked in. she knew him as gibson, and he was decent enough despite how many lies she knew he had reeled her into.

"hi hayley," gibson muttered passively, then rummaged through the various items in her cabinets. "have anything to eat?"

starcaster seemed to tense at this, and stopped chewing. "hey, uh, did you eat today?"

she blinked slowly, looking down at the table, analyzing its every groove and abrasion in the wood.

silence. she wondered if they were exchanging those glances she knew they did when the situation involved her.

"how long has it been?"

her tongue passed over the dry roof of her mouth and she swallowed the tasteless saliva that had collected in the back of her throat. "not long."

"hayley." starcaster's voice was firm. "how long?"

she breathed in deeply before responding. "two days." she felt as though she were an old landline that needed to be charged; unfitting and unneeded, that no one gave a damn whether or not it was revived.

starcaster sighed. "i'll make you something, then."

"i don't want anything."

"hayley, you need to eat." gibson this time. "what's the matter with you? why did you stop?"

she wanted to say that both of them were the reasons she went to bed each night starving. but she didn't.

"i'm just in a funk," she ultimately decided. she disliked the current mood. it was hollow and confrontational.

starcaster gave her a disbelieving look. "that's not it. tell us what's wrong."

her gaze plucked back and forth between the two of them.

"please. we won't be mad," gibson assured.

she filled her lungs with as much air as they were able to carry, calming herself. readying herself.

"i'm gay."

silence.

testing, testing.

who cut the mic cord?

there was the dull beat of a single-note drum pattern. and then she heard the pitchy drone of a broken radio, in which the batteries died a few seconds later.

starcaster came over and took one of her fragile hands in his own.

she had lost one friend, but gained another.

 


	2. // two

being thrown out of her home would have much better than her family pretending they accepted her for what she was.

a quick c chord on the neck of a viola, and she was met with the face of her mother. "hayley! dear, come in."

she gingerly stepped past the doorframe and into the foyer, where her two half-sisters erica and mckayla emerged from around the staircase.

"hey, hayr-bear!" erica hugged her tightly, then stepped back to allow mckayla to follow suit. she immediately felt a pang of longing. 'hayr-bear' was what her father used to call her.

"we're so glad you could make it!" her mother continued. "it's not everyday we're able to have dinner as a family."

she made a dismissive sound with her mouth and pushed past them into the dining area, where a few servings of mashed potatoes and three other dishes were already on the table.

"the lamb chops should be ready in a few minutes," her mother explained as the rest of the family followed her over there.

she nodded and sat down. erica and mckayla soon joined her as her mother walked into the kitchen.

"so, hayley, do you have a boyfriend?" erica asked neutrally. "oh, sorry. girlfriend?"

that was how their conversations often went. she would be asked a question about possible relationships, and that question would always require a correction.

"nope," she replied, forcing a self-deprecating smile.

"not yet, you mean," her mother voiced from the kitchen. "you're beautiful, sweetheart. you'll date someone in due time."

she ignored her comment as time plucked a shaky high string on a violin, and her mother pulled the lamb chops out from the oven.

"dig in," she said when she delivered the dish to the table.

she blankly watched the lamb chops bubble and marinate in their juices, feeling empty. she didn't know why she agreed to come over that night. she didn't want to eat. she didn't deserve to.

"hayley, dear, how's your band doing? ah...'paramore'?" her mother asked, breaking the brief silence. "are you still trying to get that record deal?"

"yeah, we're...good." she didn't tell her that gibson hadn't answered any of her calls or texts since that morning.

"what about that taylor boy?" her mother continued, daintily eating a fried onion. "he's nice, isn't he? are you two together?"

"no, mom. he's my best friend, that's weird." she masked her disgust with a wry chuckle.

"oh." the sound her mother replied with was dull, distant.

she swallowed nervously and poked at her mashed potatoes.

"hey, sis, aren't you gonna eat?" mckayla asked, pointing at her plate with her fork.

"um, actually, i'm...i ate before i came here. i know, that's stupid. i'm sorry."

erica flashed her a look while her mother aimed a crooked smile in her direction.

she couldn't take it anymore, the atmosphere. it was subdued and dishonest. she stood up, then. "listen, uh...thanks for having me tonight, but i just remembered i have somewhere to be."

she walked away and towards the foyer, calling out a quick, faltering 'i love you' before the c chord was played again and she was gone.

 


	3. // three

"hey!"

she gasped on instinct upon colliding with someone taller than she was in the driveway of her mother's house. she backed away, clutching her nerves.

"i-i'm so sorry."

the figure shifted slightly, and in the diluted glow of the porch light she could recognize him as starcaster.

"taylor." she stated his name plainly, matter-of-factly.

he mimicked her and said, "hayley," albeit in a much less serious tone.

"what are you doing here?"

he tilted his head, and a greater part of it was now engulfed in shadow. "you texted me earlier to come pick you up from here."

"i did? when?"

"over an hour ago, before you left. you said you didn't want to walk back."

she mulled over this, racking her brain for any source of recollection. why couldn't she remember doing that?

"i think you not eating is affecting your brain, hayles. we'll stop by mcdonald's on our way home." starcaster led her over to his car and unlocked it with one click of the button on his keys. she watched as the red and orange tail lights illuminated his face in a colorful display.

she wanted to protest, but one low grumble of her stomach spoke for her.

fine. she would eat.

but _only_ for starcaster.

this almost was her second full day of starvation after she had last given in to her hunger. so now she would punish herself. no eating for _three_ days after this night, no matter what. and longer if she could.

she sighed heavily as she initiated a crash of percussion upon slamming her door shut and buckled her seatbelt. starcaster turned the key in the ignition, and her hand immediately went to fiddle with the radio.

-

she was dissatisfied. the pancakes she (or rather, starcaster) had ordered had been sitting in maple syrup for far longer than they were supposed to, and were now soggy. she held back a grimace as she put a piece in her mouth. she already felt sick.

without warning, two familiar faces came into her field of few. quite familiar, seeing as one of them was that of her ex-boyfriend's.

"hayley, hey!" the younger, who she knew as gretsch, greeted cheerfully.

the older, his brother telecaster, stayed silent, though had a smile on his face nonetheless. she wondered if he was still sore over their breakup.

no, evidently, he wasn't; he sat down next to her. gretsch seated himself beside starcaster, who grinned a bit sheepishly. "uh, hope you don't mind. i told the guys we were here and they wanted to come see you."

she nodded curtly, gaze flitting between the three of them. "right. okay."

"you look nice," telecaster complimented awkwardly.

"thanks." she ran her thumb and forefinger over the hem of her black velvet dress.

they sat in silence for a while. all eyes were on her, watching her poke at her pancakes.

starcaster cleared his throat. "so..."

"josh and i landed a gig at that venue near altamont," gretsch said, trying to make conversation.

"yeah? how desperate were they?" she muttered disdainfully under her breath. telecaster heard her, however, and shot a glare in her direction.

gretsch snagged a chicken nugget from starcaster's box and continued talking. "we perform tomorrow. you guys should totally come."

"for what?"

all three men looked at her, and she met each of their eyes with a sharp gaze, never once faltering.

"to watch us...play...?" gretsch winced.

"why should we?" she felt something else, different from nausea, coursing throughout her stomach. anger. "it's not like either of you are any good."

josh started to object. "okay, that's not—"

"you know, maybe this wasn't such a good idea," starcaster said as gretsch looked on emptily. "come on, let's go..."

but she wasn't done. "if you both hadn't left our band, maybe you'd actually have a chance of being talented."

telecaster was fuming, but gretsch only looked betrayed. heartbroken, even.

"maybe you'd even—"

any opportunity of finishing that sentence was gone when telecaster brought his hand across her face.


	4. // four

silence.

f-stop the insanity.

"hayley," starcaster said quietly, a hollow concern to his voice.

she brought a cold hand to her cheek. tender. her ears were ringing.

telecaster didn't say a word. he looked down at his impulsive hands in his lap.

"i think we should go," starcaster announced. "come on, hayles."

soon enough they were standing in the parking lot, with starcaster's thumbs in his jeans pockets and her cradling her thin arms.

"i'll drive you home," he offered, and she nodded silently.

-

"okay, here we—"

"stay the night."

starcaster hesitated before saying, "what?"

she swallowed. "i want you to stay the night."

"you sure?"

"yes." _i want someone to hold my hair back when i make myself throw up. i want someone to listen to me vent. i want someone to hug me when i start to cry._

he smiled. "okay."

and they watched a movie together on her couch.

she noticed starcaster inching closer to her every so often. about a fourth of the way through the film his hand brushed her arm.

she turned towards him, and in a pianissimo voice, asked, "taylor?"

he kissed her.

she didn't know why she accepted it. she wasn't even into starcaster, much less his kind. still, that didn't stop her from wrapping her arms around his neck, letting her hands lay limply against his back.

starcaster pulled away and gently guided her downwards, pressing her body into the fabric of the couch. when she showed no open resistance, he slipped his shirt off over his head and fiddled with his jeans button.

"is this...okay?" he asked quietly, after having traced the neckline of her dress with his thumb for a while.

"yeah," she breathed, still not entirely sure herself. however, she knew in the back of her mind she could trust starcaster, no matter what happened that night.

she ran her fingers over the subtle definition in his abdomen. he wasn't the most muscular man she had ever seen, but he was still remarkably fit, and she admired that.

"i'm in love with you, hayley," he admitted in a harsh whisper, and at that time she felt two things sending a sharp pain throughout her body.

 


	5. // five

when hayley awoke the next morning, starcaster was no longer holding onto her.

she heard faint scrapes of a fork against a plate coming from the kitchen, and deduced he had gotten up to make breakfast for himself.

then her gaze fell, and she noticed a plate of scrambled eggs on the coffee table. for her.

she solemnly sat up, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the couch. she took note of her dress and most of starcaster's clothes thrown into a heap on the floor, and her toes brushed against the fabric.

starcaster poked his head through the kitchen doorway. "hey, hayles. i hope you don't mind, i made breakfast. the eggs in your fridge were gonna expire in a few days."

"it's fine, i can't cook anyway."

he came over and seated himself next to her. "look, about last night...i get if you only agreed to it if you were just...you know, in denial with yourself."

she nodded.

"and, uh, that 'i'm in love with you' thing i said...i didn't mean it. it just slipped out."

"i get it."

"sorry."

"it's fine."

the door swung open, and gretsch and telecaster eased past the frame. not long after came a shout of "oh my god" from gretsch and "nice" from telecaster simultaneously once they saw her and starcaster's scantily clad states.

gretsch immediately hid his face and said "sorry" in a repetitious flurry, but telecaster eyed her as if she were a hot piece of meat.

"yeah, you _wish_ your dick was inside me last night," she muttered as she covered the front of her body with her now wrinkled dress.

starcaster slipped his jeans back on in order to show less skin as well. she thought she saw gretsch sneaking glances at his exposed chest through his fingers.

"what are you guys doing here?" she queried, her tone of voice sharper than she had intended to make it.

"we wanted to apologize," gretsch began once he had composed himself. "or, actually, _he_ wanted to." he gave telecaster a hard shove in the shoulder.

"right. uh..." telecaster cleared his throat. "i'm sorry."

"for what, josh?" gretsch asked, sounding like a disapproving mother.

"for..." he stumbled over his words. "you know. hitting you."

"in the face," his brother added.

starcaster took note of the pleading look she sent in his direction. "look, thanks guys, but we'd appreciate it if you left."

gretsch gave a brief nod and directed himself and telecaster out of the room.

 


	6. // six

starcaster invited her to a party.

she wandered around aimlessly, stupidly. she'd follow him before breaking the trail, looking for a familiar face until finding his again, and repeated the cycle more times than she remembered to count.

until she bumped into a girl.

"and then i was like— _ow!!_ " the girl stumbled forward, her drink spilling over the edge of her cup. she met her eyes, its color a kaleidoscope in the dancing party lights.

"sorry!" she hissed quickly, and maneuvered away from her group of friends.

however, if she had stayed a little longer, she would've seen her lips just a twitch away from asking who she was, her eyes a shade away from finding her attractive.

"sorry...'scuse me..." she ran into several more people, apologizing feebly each time. she wanted to find starcaster. she wanted to go home, to get out of whoever's house this was.

"hey!"

a voice, soft enough that it just barely entered her hearing range, caused her to whip around for its source. however, she failed to register that her feet were still moving, and she once again bumped into someone. a set of arms snaked around her small waist, and she looked back to find it was starcaster.

the girl she had previously bothered was standing in front of her. her blonde hair fell naturally against her back and shoulders, and her casual outfit consisted of a loose-fitting black shirt and denim shorts.

the girl stood there in silence, looking between her and starcaster with an expression she couldn't quite discern amidst the lighting.

if words were spoken, she didn't catch any, because she and starcaster had already left.


	7. // seven

"are you okay?" starcaster asked her when they stepped outside. the air carried a brisk dryness that chapped her skin as she headed further into it, and she rubbed the goosebumps along her arms.

"yes," she lied, feeling hollow.

"you sure? you wanted to leave really early. we hadn't even been there an hour—"

"well, things change, all right?" she snapped, whipping around to face him. locks of her dirty hair brushed against her face like twigs. "i just wanted to get the hell out of there. why do you even care?"

he looked hurt, and she immediately regretted unleashing her pent-up anger towards him.

"look, i'm sorry," she confessed, vaguely aware that he was getting closer to her. "i just...hate crowds, i guess. and—"

"it's okay." starcaster tilted his head a bit to diagonally align his lips with hers. she froze along with the weather, her body a whole rest in a silent song.

they stayed in this position for a while, both unsure of the other's intentions, before the sound of the door opening prompted her to propel backwards.

"um, hey." the blonde girl from the party stood there, faintly illuminated in the golden-rose glow of the porch light. now that she was able to hear more clearly, she found her voice to be sweet and melodic. the blonde stood there timidly, holding some type of fabric in her hands.

"i think you...dropped this? i found it on the floor by where you were standing." she walked over and handed her a sweater. a foreign, unfamiliar sweater.

not knowing what else to do, she accepted it. "uh, yeah. thanks."

the girl nodded and, with a smile, re-entered the house.

"that's weird," starcaster voiced after they had begun walking again. "i don't remember you wearing a sweater."

her mouth was void of a reply. she didn't want to tell him that she had seen a sort of hidden plead in the girl's eyes; that it was okay for her to take the sweater, she wanted her to.

slipping the garment on, she shoved her hands into the pockets and felt something in one of them. a slip of paper, now crumpled from the violent inward motion of her fist.

she pulled it out and carefully unfolded it. some words had been scrawled on what appeared to be a napkin.

_you looked cold. don't worry about giving this back to me, you can keep it._

_(310) 927 1984_

_call me._

_xoxo –avril_


End file.
